


Fix You

by shretl (girlundone)



Series: A Girl Needs A Gun These Days [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Love, Mental Health Issues, Post-Destroy Ending, Regret, physical health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlundone/pseuds/shretl
Summary: Two years after the destruction of the Reapers, Shepard is still reeling from her decision.





	Fix You

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that this builds a little bridge between A Case of You and my upcoming fic, Last Year's Troubles. This little one-shot is set two years after the war.
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta, [Some_Writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Writer/pseuds/Some_Writer) and the people over at FishCat Writing Group! You can also now find me on [tumblr.](http:/shretl.tumblr.com)
> 
> Happy N7 Day!

**Gamecock Barracks, UK, Earth**

**2188**

 

The rain pattered softly on the bedroom window, though Shepard’s back was turned to the November gloom. It was one of those late autumn days when it seemed as though the sun never rose at all.

She wished, how she wished, that she could tuck into herself, curl into a ball and hide under the covers. A luxury she hadn’t had in over twenty years. Not since her father’s bright presence left Earth.

But now she couldn’t even lay comfortably in bed. Couldn’t curve her limbs together to soothe herself, to shield herself from the onslaught of doubts and recriminations that pounded relentlessly inside her mind.

There was the soft footfall of digitigrade steps and then a pause as they halted in confusion in the open doorway. “You’re not dressed.”

She didn’t turn. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to, command her neck to move at that angle. Not yet. She would have had to move her entire spine, still healing months after her third surgery. The reconstruction had gone well, the doctors said. She wouldn’t need a cane soon, the doctors said. Her balance would adjust, the doctors said. In time, they said. In time.

But she wouldn’t turn for another reason. She wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t speak, lest it all come tumbling out. Garrus had been at her side for so long. He hadn’t flinched in the face of her long recovery. He helped her in the bathroom, in the shower, in the kitchen. He was patient with her in a way that belied even his stoic calm in a sniper’s nest.

He loved her, she knew, even without him saying it. Just the once, just before she ran towards that beam. But she knew, by the way his hands were so careful helping her up from the shower stool; by the way he watched her chest rise and fall in the soft moonlight that filtered in the window, now rain-spattered, in their squat, little house in Gamecock Barracks, just outside Coventry.

She knew, and yet she found herself withdrawing from his keen blue gaze. From the inquisitive tilt of his majestic fringe. If he knew… If he knew. She was always afraid now. She lived in fear she would say it all aloud.

He was in the room, though she still couldn’t see him. Her gaze was fixed on the wall. “You’re going to be late.”

It was another thing he did, that told her that he loved her. He drove her, though it was a short walk to the base’s hospital, to physical therapy. Every day but the weekend, he drove and waited in the small vehicle, too compact for his large frame, and fielded messages from the Hierarchy. Asking him why he wasn’t there, helping to rebuild. Asking him to do his part, as though he hadn’t done enough. And though she resented so many things she caused in the war, in the Crucible, she didn’t resent this. She wanted, possibly more than she wanted to run again, or walk without pain, or shower by herself, was for Garrus to find a place in this new galaxy for himself.

The thoughts, racing and swirling, threatened to bubble past her lips. She took a breath, exhaling it with a quiver. “I’m not going.”

He was by the foot of the bed now, a placating hand patting her blanketed toes firmly. “That doesn’t sound like my girl.”

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut at the memory. The Citadel, the _Normandy_ , their friends, her family. Her heart hammered in her chest with sickening thuds. She couldn’t say it. She shouldn’t say it.

He knelt down beside her. She could tell by the way the shadows flickered behind her closed lids. She could sense him wincing as he moved his leg, the one so badly injured just before he said it. _I… I love you, too._

His hand, his gentle fingers, were stroking her hair. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She couldn’t stop the words, the tears, the painful beats of her heart, the retching gasps of air that all came spilling out. “I don’t deserve to get better.”

He loved her because he let her cry, let her sob until her throat was rent, her body trembling from the effort, until a hysterical kind of exhaustion claimed her. His hands never left her hair, his stiff legs never left her side.

She had never heard his resounding voice so quiet before. “You’ve never learned that you can’t save everyone. It’s what makes you, well, you. It’s why everyone believes in you. Because you believe you can save them all. And you can’t. You never could. But… you still try. You always try.”

Fresh tears ran unchecked down her face as freely as the rain drizzled down the windowpane. “I didn’t care that I was killing them. The geth, EDI. I never trusted them. I never thought they were like us. I’m not sorry. I’m not. I had to…” Her words became a choked cry. “I’m not sorry.”

He held her now, heedless of the wet pillow, of the dripping nose she knew he always found repulsive, cradling her so deftly in his arms, caressing the incision marks along her spine, hidden beneath her sleep shirt.

His breath cooled her burning face. “I think…” He took a steadying breath of his own and began again. “Right choices aren’t always the easiest to live with. You taught me that, with Sidonis. I taught myself that when I ordered the full retreat of Palaven. It wasn’t easy.” Even now, in her anguish, she loved the way his voice drawled over the word. “It still isn’t. I have you and Dad and Sol, but so many people out there have nothing; they’re gone. Dead. But I was right. And you were right. You were right. And,” his breath grew shaky again, “And we’re alive. We can’t stop living because it’s hard to live with. I… I need you, Shepard.”

His fingers left her back to stroke her wet cheek, coaxing her to look at him through dewy lashes. “I know I don’t say it but I…”

“I know,” she said quickly, still breathless with tears. Her hand found his on her cheek and she squeezed it with all the strength she had. Her words were just as strong as she said it again. “I know.”

It was said that no one person should love another so fiercely, so completely, so thoroughly. Some said it made the gods jealous. Others said it was foolish to set your heart so fully on another faulty, mortal creature. But if that person brought so much happiness, so much understanding, so much tranquillity into your life, wasn’t it worth the risk?

Shepard, who was very familiar with risks, thought it was worth every gamble in the galaxy.

 

 


End file.
